Where Trust Belongs
by Athalwen
Summary: Set between DoFP and Apocalypse. Even though Magneto has gone into hiding, his ideas are still accepted and revered by some mutants. New threats force members of Xavier's fledgling school to defend their way of life.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The antiques store across the street wasn't kept very clean. Vicious raindrops smeared dirt down the windows, blurring the letters of the many signs plastered on the inside. The door was a rusty old thing, with weakened hinges and thin wood. Altia didn't know if the upkeep had failed because of neglect on the owner's part or lack of funding for repairs. Luckily, that wasn't her problem.

A taxi rolled across the street in front of her, tires splashing water onto the sidewalk. It was followed by several other cars, both yellow taxis and ordinary vehicles. They rolled to a stop in the middle of the road soon after. Altia glanced down the street with a huff, tugging her hood down before burying her hands in her pockets. When her gaze flicked back to the old shop, there was someone standing outside- a lanky boy, tucking a newspaper into his backpack.

Altia rose smoothly and glanced down the street before ducking out into the rain. She squeezed between a couple backed up cars, ignoring the irritated gestures of the man inside. There was no reason to let him see her face.

One more jump placed her on the other side of the street. The boy met her eyes with a brief nod as she passed him, but gave her no other acknowledgement.

A small bell tinkled as Altia pushed the door open, lowering her hood and giving her head a quick shake. It wasn't much warmer inside the shop than it was outside, unfortunately. At least the cramped isles gave the illusion of a comfortable space.

An elderly man behind the counter glanced at her quickly before turning back to a notepad. "Welcome to Dyson's Wares. Let me know if I can do anything for you."

"Actually…" Altia approached the counter quickly. "I've lost my apartment key. I was here earlier today, and I'm just retracing my footsteps… has anyone turned anything in?"

The man shrugged. "Don't think so. Sorry."

"It's… rather important." Altia glanced at the downpour outside. "Can you check? Just in case?"

As soon as the man glanced up, meeting her eyes for the first time, he was lost. His scowl faded slightly and he gave a reluctant sigh. "Yeah, sure. Wait here."

Altia shifted so that she was still in his line of sight. When his eyes flicked up to meet hers naturally, she adopted her best look of pleading concern. "I can come with you, right?"

This was always a bit of a stretch, but the man simply shrugged. "Sure."

He took her to the back of the shop, where a narrow staircase led up to a second floor. The wood creaked as they ascended, and the noise from the rain was louder than it had been down below.

The shopkeeper pulled out a key ring, selecting one and approaching the door at the top of the stairs. _Back pocket,_ Altia noted. That should be simple enough.

She stepped into the upper room, and her senses were instantly overwhelmed by a horrible, nonsensical clutter. Aging wooden clocks were perched next to music boxes and used to support semi-decent paintings. An abacus rested on top of a mound of books that were probably even older than the shopkeeper himself. The floor was littered with papers that fluttered around, blown by a freezing wind coming through an open window. A few weathered cabinets lined one wall, poorly hiding a safe in the corner, while the opposite was consumed by tall file drawers.

There was a heavy thump as the old man forced the window closed. Altia let out the shiver she'd been suppressing, rubbing her arms to warm them up. The mess made her rather uncomfortable, but hopefully Leer would admit that there was nothing she could do about it.

"Come over here." The man beckoned her over to the least crowded desk, pushing aside a couple lamps and tapping a locked black box. "Just step on the papers- don't worry about it."

Altia approached him slowly, watching as he inserted another key into the lock and pulled the box open. Inside was a small collection of items: two individual keys, a metal watch, a necklace with a broken chain, and an open locket with an ancient black-and-white photograph inside. She took her time looking at the items before shaking her head.

"Nothing? This isn't your key?" The man held up one of the keys in the box. When Altia shook her head, he tossed it back in with a grunt before shutting the box and tucking it away.

"Sorry to waste your time," Altia murmured. She glanced down, but her eyes carefully followed the man's hand as he tucked the key ring into his back pocket again.

The shopkeeper beckoned her toward the door. "It's okay, kid. Good luck."

Altia's gaze flew around the room, quickly settling on a dusty violin on top of one of the cabinets. As she was about to pass the man, she gaped suddenly, pointing at it. "Is that a Stradivarius? Does it still play?"

As soon as the man turned, attention shifting away from her, Altia deftly grabbed the keys from his back pocket. Her outstretched arm blocked the motion of her action quite nicely. She tucked the key ring into her hoodie as the man moved toward the instrument.

"It is. Do you play?" He picked it up and turned back to her inquisitively.

The moment their eyes met, Altia felt a familiar mental tug- little more than a prod. She smiled disarmingly. "I was in orchestra for several years."

"On violin?"

Altia shook her head. "Trombone," she said, quickly selecting an instrument she hadn't seen anywhere in the store.

The man nodded, setting the violin down somewhat reluctantly. "Sorry I couldn't help. You can find the way out?"

Altia nodded, a smile gracing her lips. "Thanks." She glanced around one last time before ducking back onto the narrow staircase.

Downstairs, the shop was unchanged. No one had entered in her absence, the rain was still coming down heavily, and the old man's notepad was still lying by the register where he'd left it. Altia paused on her way out, leaning over the counter to glance at it curiously. Some sort of diary- not worth her time.

She was greeted by a cold wind the moment she pushed open the door. The bell tinkled, almost laughing at her, and Altia shot it a glance before stepping outside and zipping up her jacket. The lanky boy wasn't there anymore, but she knew exactly how to find him.

Three minutes later, Altia ducked into an alley that connected two streets. The tall buildings on either side blocked most of the wind, luckily, but the passing cars on either end of the alley provided enough noise to cover a conversation. The boy- Altia had seen him around before but never bothered to learn his name- was leaning against a wall, backpack on the ground by his feet.

Altia approached the boy with hands in her pockets, eyeing him warily. He was watching her too, but she noticed that he, like everyone else, was careful to avoid her eyes.

The boy grunted when she got close. "You got it?"

"Course." Altia tossed him the key ring quickly before jamming her hands back into her pockets. "Does Leer want me to come tonight?"

"Yep. He always likes having his mutants along. You should know that." The kid tossed the key ring a few times before tucking it into the front pocket of his backpack. He straightened, then looked back at Altia. Well, looked at a point somewhere above her head. "It'll be a straightforward run. Get moving."

Altia hesitated, then nodded. Better to avoid a confrontation, even when it wasn't Leer she was dealing with. Everything got back to him in the end. "What time?"

"One. Catch some sleep if you can. If you can't, at least make yourself useful. Leer's words."

"Fine." Altia brushed past him, moving down to the other side of the alley. She slipped out, joining the throng of people rushing to their next destination. Probably somewhere warm.

A young woman jostled her as she moved past, heels clicking on the wet pavement. Altia watched her go, slowing her pace as she approached the intersection. There was already a crowd of people gathered at the corner. After a moment's hesitation, Altia joined the group waiting to go forward- the way that wouldn't take her back to her dump of a home.

The light turned, and the crowd surged across the street, drawing Altia with them. She stayed with the group for half a block before ducking into a dark corner between a couple restaurants. It wasn't much, but the shadows cast by the clouds and the walls were enough to hide her from casual passersby.

Altia pulled her legs in close to her chest, pressing her forehead onto her knees and closing her eyes. It was better than trying to nap back where the rest of the gang would be waiting.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The little store looked exactly the same at night as it had during the day. Sometime after sunset the rain had slowed to a drizzle, allowing fat drops to fall from awnings and slide down windows. Altia leaned against a wall across the street and a few skinny buildings down, picking absently at some dirt under her nails. She was early- twenty minutes early. Better to arrive sooner than risk missing the time.

The sound of a shoe scuffing against pavement pulled her attention to the left. Zack was approaching, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Altia glanced away as he leaned against the wall next to her, watching the store silently.

Zack broke the silence first. "You came here this afternoon?"

"Had to get the keys." Altia shrugged. "The usual job."

"More helpful than me." Zack snorted softly. "So…"

Altia shook her head. "Not now. We can talk after. If it's necessary."

With Zack sufficiently silenced, the wait became a silent one. Fortunately, it wasn't too long- a group of shadows emerging from the alley where Altia had met the lanky boy signaled Leer's arrival.

The gang jogged swiftly over to where Altia and Zack waited. "Good," she heard one of them say. "The mutants are already here." They were shushed a moment later by someone else.

Leer himself was a shorter kid, probably one or two years older than Altia. He stepped out from the pack, motioning for Altia and Zack to join the group as they jogged across the street. A lone streetlamp illuminated the road some fifty feet away. Cars still drove down the larger roads on either side of the tiny one-lane street they crossed, but no one came down at this time of night. Probably a good thing- Leer would try to have Altia deal with them.

The gang leader himself stopped in front of the antique shop, pulling out the key ring and inserting several into the lock before it finally clicked open. The other boys filed in after him. Altia found herself somewhere in the middle, shoved roughly as they tried to squeeze eight people into a narrow space.

There was a muffled thud, then the sound of shattering glass, immediately followed by a curse from Leer. "Girl! I should've gotten a layout!"

Altia knew better than to retort. "Staircase at the back, door at the top. The safe is in a corner, but I don't think any of the keys on that ring will open it. Try the ones in a tiny black box on the middle desk."

"Fine. Trent, with me. The rest of you- spread out. Find what you can." Leer moved away from the group, followed by their largest boy.

Altia moved to the cash register. The notebook the man had been writing in was still on the counter, closed and pushed off to the side. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing it and a pen from a jar. The pages crackled slightly as Altia flipped to the latest entry, scribbling a quick _sorry_ before putting the pen and the book back in their respective places.

"What are you doing?"

Altia jumped, a hand flying to her chest as she spun around. Zack was peering at her curiously from around the counter.

"Goodness, Zack!" she hissed. "Don't do that! I was just looking."

He reached up and grabbed her hand, waiting a brief moment before looking up at her accusatorily. "You're lying."

"Whatever." Altia opened the cash register, grabbing the bills inside and handing them to Zack. "You get those to Leer. He doesn't trust me with money."

The store contained several items that could be valuable, but they were forced to pass up on most of it. They didn't have the connections to be able to sell stolen jewelry. A hasty ten-minute search revealed a few other stashes of money, including another large one in a back room.

Leer returned just as they were running out of places to look. "We're good. Let's go."

Altia ducked out of the store, glancing down the street before waving for the rest of the gang to follow. They came with low chuckled and whispered congratulations, high-fiving each other and grinning. The street was still quiet. No alarms had been set off, no cops had been called, and no one had seen their faces.

Leer drifted back to walk by Altia as they made their way back toward their old building. "Nice call on the key, girl. What gave it away?"

"He asked me if one of the keys was mine but ignored the other, so I figured he probably knew what it did." Altia shrugged, glancing at Leer but keeping her eyes carefully trained on his shoulder.

The gang leader laughed. "Knew you'd be a good addition. Good work with the mutant magic." He clapped her roughly on the shoulder before pushing back to the front of the group.

 _Mutant magic._ Altia pursed her lips, glancing back to the ground. Funny how grateful he could pretend to be. In front of her, each individual was handing Leer the money they'd managed to find. No one asked her for cash- they didn't need to. Everyone knew she wouldn't have any, because none of them trusted her to hold it. And she never did, since they could just have Zack figure out that she'd been dishonest.

Altia knew that the gang members who walked behind her weren't there to guard the rear. They were there to keep an eye on her. Occasionally she would attempt to engage them in conversation, but tonight she kept her focus straight ahead, where it belonged.

After some twenty minutes of walking, they reached a dilapidated section of town. Ancient apartments lined the streets, barely visible in the darkness left by dead streetlights, and potholes were filled with water, creating dangerous hazards for someone on foot. The place where they lived wasn't really a building- it was more of an abandoned construction project.

Leer shoved aside the rotting boards and strode in. The others followed, but when Altia ducked through the gap, she felt a firm hand on her arm.

"Girl. We're gonna need you again tomorrow."

She blinked. "So soon? We just got a big score."

"And we're gonna get another one. Just, no setup for this one. You gotta come with us at night. They've got guards."

Altia leaned back instinctively, trying to put some distance between her and Leer's breath. "Guards? How big is this job?"

"Big. Make sure you're ready. You're gonna get us in." Leer shoved her back, striding away through the maze of wooden beams on the ground.

Altia rubbed her face, suppressing a sigh of exhaustion. Leer didn't understand her mutation- none of them did. It would be nearly impossible to get them into a securely guarded location. Even so, it didn't look like she'd have a choice.

She moved over to the side of the building, pulling herself up a set of rungs to the second floor. Wooden boards creaked under her as she walked, stepping over a few shapeless mounds that were either piles of supplies or sleeping boys.

Her corner was exactly how she'd left it. Altia shrugged off her damp hoodie, wrapping a dry blanket around herself instead. It was cold, but not unbearably so- she'd probably be in trouble once fall started changing into winter.

Her first winter on her own. Altia pondered that for a moment before shrugging the thought off and closing her eyes. Exhausted as she was, it didn't take long for her to fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Altia opened her eyes the next morning when sunlight began to filter through the boards that made up a back wall. She rubbed her eyes with one hand, rising carefully and dropping her blanket to the ground. People and cars passed by outside with low rumbles and murmurs. Luckily, none of the boys were up yet.

She grabbed her jacket, throwing it on over the same shirt she'd worn the day before. _I might be able to get more clothes when I go out sometime,_ Altia thought absently, clambering down to the first level and stepping through a maze of wood to reach their makeshift door.

The board creaked when Altia swung it aside, emerging into the daylight with a hand over her eyes. She shoved aside the distracting scents of breakfasts- no need for that today. Leer didn't want her until night, and she didn't intend to squander her time.

Altia walked down the streets more cheerfully than she had the previous day. The pavement was still wet, and water dripped down into puddles, but the air had a brisk, clean feel to it. She even looked at the other people walking around her. Whenever they met her gaze, they'd smile- some openly, others hesitant.

There was a store several blocks down. She hadn't gone there in a while, so there was little chance someone would recognize her. Admittedly, it probably wouldn't matter if they did, but it was better not to risk it.

Altia strode inside, hands clasped behind her. The shelves were filled with products- mostly food, though there were also a couple isles that had cosmetics and baking supplies. Strolling down the rows and pretending to be interested in nutritional ingredients was second nature by now.

Eventually Altia saw her target- a flustered woman with a toddler and an older child. She was carrying multiple bags, trying to manage her load of groceries and pick up her screaming son. Perfect.

Altia approached the woman smoothly. "Can I help you with that?" She reached out to take the largest bag from the woman, who glanced up at her quickly.

There it was. Their eyes met, Altia smiled, and the woman breathed a sigh of relief and nodded gratefully, allowing Altia to take another bag and free up one of her arms. "Thank you. Thank you so much- I'm sorry for the trouble."

"Oh, it's no problem. I've got younger siblings- I totally get it." Altia smiled sympathetically. When the woman bent down to pick up the toddler, she snatched the receipt out of the bag, stuffing it in her pocket before the mother stood up again. "Do you want me to carry these out for you?"

"Thank you so much," the woman breathed. Altia nodded and followed her outside, watching the older son jump over puddles and cracks. The family actually had a car parked against the curb- a rare occurrence.

The mother fumbled in her pocket, managing to withdraw a set of keys but dropping her phone and wallet in the process. Her son picked them up and stuffed them into her hands as soon as she deposited her bags in the trunk. Altia handed her the other two, gaze flicking to the ground. Several small cards had fallen out of the woman's wallet.

"Here." She bent down and picked them up, turning the papers over curiously. Most of them were old receipts, but the one on top was different- a business card. _Xavier's school for gifted youngsters._ Altia frowned.

The woman snatched the card out of her hand a moment later, stuffing it quickly into her pocket. She was staring at Altia with an expression akin to fear.

Altia met her gaze, watching as the woman breathed out slowly, fear changing gradually to reluctance. "I'm sorry. Should I not have…?"

"No… it's all right." The woman rubbed her face, setting the toddler down. "Jacob, help your brother buckle." The older boy nodded slowly, opening the car and helping the toddler climb in before disappearing.

The woman turned back to Altia. "It's… my oldest son. We haven't told anyone- I worry about him being accepted at school. Since his… gift isn't visibly noticeable, it's… well. Hard. On us."

"He's a mutant?" Altia frowned, glancing at the woman's pocket.

She glanced around quickly. "I… yes. I'm sorry. You won't tell anyone?"

"Of course not." Altia stared into her eyes. "Trust me."

The woman nodded, finally relaxing. "Thank you for your help." She hesitated, then nodded to Altia and climbed into her car, pulling out a few moments later.

Altia stood by the street and watched until the car was out of sight. Another mutant… she hadn't met very many of those. At least his mother seemed supportive enough.

She shook the thought aside and headed back into the store, pulling the receipt she'd stolen out of her pocket. A quick scan of the list showed several options that could be useful: crackers, granola bars, apples, cookies, soap…

Altia grabbed a few boxes of granola, a small bag of apples, and a couple bars of soap before heading back to the doors. The man hovering by the exit scanned her receipt with tired eyes before lazily marking it with a pen, waving for her to leave. _Easy enough,_ Altia thought. The triumph of these shopping excursions had long since worn off, leaving her with only the annoyance of having to lug groceries back to their building without a bag.

The streets had gotten busy in her absence. Altia kept her head down this time, avoiding everyone's eyes. With her nondescript jacket and her arms full of food, she easily became another passing face in the crowd. No one gave her a second glance, even when she slipped away from the surge of people and into the muddy alley claimed by Leer.

She pushed the swinging board aside with a foot, ducking into the shadows of the abandoned construction site. "I got food."

Several of the boys responded instantly, forcing themselves up and shoving each other lightheartedly as they came over. Altia set the boxes on a plank of wood, tapping the board so that it swung back into place.

Leer shoved his way past two other boys and nudged the bag of apples with a foot. "What is this? Where's all the other stuff?"

"I carried as much as I could," Altia retorted. "We've still got older stuff if you don't like granola and fruit." She quickly tucked the tiny box of soap into her jacket pocket.

Leer rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he grumbled. "Get out of here. Go find your mutant buddy or something. Make sure you're at the old brick bank before midnight- the one that's like fifteen blocks south of here."

"The… a bank?" Altia gaped. "That's your plan? I can't get you into a bank."

"You'd better. We used last night's stash to buy off the front desk security, so you'll only have to win over the guards on the inside. And it's a tiny bank anyway- not big enough to get tons of attention, but big enough to set us up for years."

Altia shook her head. "I can make people trust me, but security guards won't even let someone they trust into a secure vault! Your plan is… not going to work." _Stupid,_ she finished in her head.

The other boys glanced between her and Leer nervously. One of them raised a hesitant hand. "Um, chick…"

"Shut up, Dustin," Leer snapped. He took a menacing step toward Altia, seeming to tower over her even though he was only a couple inches taller.

She looked up at him instinctively, backing away, then froze. _Bad move. Bad, bad move._

Leer lunged at her angrily, shoving her back against the steel framework. "Don't you look at me! Don't ever try to meet my eyes!"

"Sorry!" Altia yelped, looking away quickly.

A second later, a harsh blow collided with her jaw, sending her reeling to the ground. She glanced back at Leer. His fists were clenched and he was regarding her with an unreadable expression, chest heaving with fury.

Altia sucked in a breath, lowering her hand from her face. "I'll get you in."

"See that you do." Leer glared at her for a second longer before turning away, grabbing the food and motioning for the others to leave her alone.

With a wince, Altia raised her hand back to her jaw, rubbing it gently. She used the wall to pull herself up, straightening and blinking several times before heading slowly back to the door. The old wood nicked her finger when she shoved it aside. Altia inhaled sharply, stepping out into the alley and shaking her hand in a rough attempt to alleviate the pain.

 _I hate this. I hate all of this._ She walked back out of the alley, slipping into the ever-present mob of people crowding the narrow sidewalks. "Can't run, though," she muttered, picking futilely at the splinter in her finger.

The man walking next to her glanced at her curiously, but said nothing, hurrying on his way and quickly outpacing Altia. Most people were passing her, actually- she was moving slowly, aimlessly heading down a street to the left in search of Zack.

She saw the crowd before she saw him. A throng had gathered outside a roughly constructed wooden shelter, draped with old cloth that Altia had taken to a laundry a few months back. Zack used his mutation publicly, and more than a little flamboyantly. Through direct contact, he could tell if someone were lying- his little booth often attracted the attention of couples trying to determine their partner's fidelity, or lack thereof.

Altia shoved her way through the crowd, pushing aside the makeshift curtain and walking up to a table inside the tent where Zack was sitting, shuffling through a small pile of cash. "Zack. There are people waiting."

"Not my problem." He shrugged. "I can make them wait if I want."

"Well, don't. Send them on their way or get through them quickly- I want to talk."

Zack sighed, depositing his money inside a bag in the corner. "Fine. Show the next people in."

Altia rolled her eyes but went to the curtain, pushing it open and staring at the faces outside. "Next."

It took Zack nearly half an hour to get through everyone. More than once, Altia wanted to tell him to hurry it up- there was no need to listen to long, detailed sob stories or waste time on fake mysticism. When the last couple finally left, she pulled the curtains shut and sat on one of the chairs, leaning across the desk.

Zack sighed, leaning back in his chair. "What is it, Altia?"

"Leer's next job. He's crazy."

"Tell me something I don't know." Zack snorted, folding his arms behind his head and tilting his neck back with a sigh. "Just go along with him. He likes having mutants around, but if we cross him he isn't afraid to get rid of us."

"I know that." Altia stuck her chin in her hands, staring at the wood in front of her. Zack's desk seemed unusually interesting.

Zack nodded. "So just go with it. It's not too bad, really. We haven't even gotten caught yet thanks to you."

"Great. No pressure or anything." Altia rolled her eyes. "Most mutants don't have to do this, Zack."

"Yeah, but some of them do. It could be worse. Trust me."

Altia met his eyes- he was one of the few who allowed her to do that. "I know. I do." The lie came easily, but since she was holding Zack with her gaze, she knew he believed her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The members Leer had chosen for that night's excursion met up a block away from their target. Altia leaned against a wall next to Zack. She hadn't spoken to anyone else, and hadn't even risked a glance in Leer's direction. The entire group had a sort of nervous energy, one that expressed itself through scowls and shuffling feet. Yet somehow, Altia seemed to be the only one who realized that Leer's grand plan to get them all rich overnight was full of holes and doomed to fail.

Maybe another mutant would be able to rob a bank single-handedly. Like that one guy they'd all seen on television a few years back, the one called Magneto. Altia knew that her mutation would never be able to manage any massive stunt, and she suspected that Zack knew it too. Unfortunately, to Leer, all mutants were the same- bodies filled with an unknown and therefore all-powerful magic. _Mutant magic._ Altia scowled again.

"Hey. Girl." Leer's voice snapped her attention up to him, though she was careful to look only at his shoulders. "We're just about ready. You're going in first."

Altia nodded mutely, taking her hands out of her jacket pockets and stretching her fingers one by one. _With any luck, this'll get them all rounded up and I can convince the authorities to let me go._

Zack reached over and touched her shoulder. "Good luck."

"Guy at the front desk should be conveniently in the bathroom. Just go in, grab his keys, get the guards out of the way. You have two minutes before we come in." Even though she wasn't looking directly at him, Altia could feel Leer's glare. "Don't mess this one up."

"I'll do what I can." Altia took a deep breath, jogging around the corner before she could lose her nerve.

The bank Leer had targeted wasn't anything huge. Single story, built from worn bricks, didn't even belong to a large company. Still, that didn't mean there wouldn't be guards and cameras. Even a tiny bank was protected.

Altia paused outside, peering in a small window. There was a single light on in an office off the main entry room, but she couldn't see any movement. Maybe Leer's payoff had worked.

She pushed open the door cautiously. It was unlocked, at least, so something was going right. No alarm went off when she entered, no shouts rose from the hall, and no bell jingled when the door swung open. A pause, then a breath- she was fine.

The wooden floor creaked softly as soon as Altia stepped inside. She froze, heart pounding, then straightened. If she had to do this, she might as well do it quickly. The door to the lit office was open.

As Altia moved across the room, she adjusted her pace to mimic that of a larger man. Hopefully anyone listening would think she was the conveniently missing front desk guard. She made it across the room without any problems, then strode confidently into the office. A ring of keys lay casually across a few files. So far, so good.

She snatched up the keys, pausing only a moment before heading back out. There was a metal door behind the front counter, with an older looking keyhole. Altia frowned. _This place really isn't very well taken care of…_

With a shrug, she stuck the keys into the lock one at a time. The fourth one turned- Altia hesitated, then pushed the door open, wincing as it groaned softly.

A short hallway lay beyond. It was moderately well-lit, with smooth walls and several secure doors. Altia stepped in, then froze.

She wasn't alone.

Two guards at the end of the hall stepped forward, raising their handguns. "Back up. Hands in the air."

 _This better work,_ Altia thought. "I… sorry… my uncle works here. He said I could visit? I thought he might be… back here…" She met the eyes of the guard who had spoken- a young man, probably not yet thirty.

He faltered visibly. "You can't- you shouldn't be back here. Get out."

"Hands behind your head!" The other guard gave his companion an incredulous look. "Now! Where are the alarms?"

Altia switched her gaze to him, raising her hands slowly. "I'm sorry. Can you help me find him? He wasn't in his office."

The guards exchanged a glance. "Wasn't in his office? And he left his keys for you to find?"

"I don't know where he went. He might… be in trouble." Altia watched them nervously, keeping her eyes locked with theirs whenever they looked in her direction.

The guard who had challenged her immediately was the first to break. "I'll help you look for him. Just come out of here."

"Thank you. Thanks." Altia smiled nervously, glancing at the other guard. "You guys… probably shouldn't split up. In case something did happen to him. It could happen to us too, you know."

He looked nervous, but nodded, lowering his weapon and pacing forward to escort her out of the back hallway. Altia led the way to the front, where she pointed wordlessly at the empty desk in the office. Nothing had changed. The files were still open, the light was on, and the seat was pushed back slightly.

"Well, now. That's not good." The young guard paced into the room, examining a few of the files while Altia glanced nervously out the front window. Surely it had been two minutes…

The second guard approached Altia from behind. "What did you say your name was?"

 _Bad. Very bad._ "I…" Altia saw, out of the corner of her eye, a shadow flick across the window. Her eyes widened involuntarily.

The guard spun around instinctively, gun raised. "Who's there?"

"No one. I don't know. I thought I saw…"

"Stay here." The younger guard brushed past her, motioning to his companion as he moved slowly toward the door.

Altia watched nervously as they stepped out into the street, peering in both directions. She saw the shock on their faces a moment before the outlines of Leer and Trent loomed up and dragged them to the ground, quickly knocking them unconscious and taking their guns. It happened in a matter of seconds.

The gang leader stepped inside, giving Altia a grudging nod. "Good work, girl. Stay here and keep a lookout." He moved quickly toward the metal door in the back, followed by the other boys. Altia could hear them moving down the short hallway and starting to test keys on the various doors.

 _Stay here and keep a lookout._ Great. Probably so that if she got arrested or killed, the others would hear the noise and be able to find a way out or at least prepare for a fight. Now that she'd gotten them in, she was expendable.

Altia paced over to the door, opening it a crack and glancing out at the street. The two guards were gone, presumably dragged off to the side to a slightly less conspicuous location. No cars, no pedestrians… no cops. This break-in was weird.

She turned away from the door, returning to examine the countertop. The building was old, clearly, and had obvious signs of wear. The floor creaked, the counter didn't gleam, there clearly wasn't a proper heating system in place…

A noise, little more than a gasp. Altia spun around, clutching the counter behind her with a sharp, fearful inhale.

There was a pale, wiry man staring at her from another tiny door that she hadn't noticed before. Probably the bathroom- he must be the guy who monitored the office desk. The one Leer had bought out.

His eyes darted around the room, eventually fixing on the open metal door. Without a word, he turned and sprinted for the front.

"Wait!"

Altia's voice stopped him. He'd already looked into her eyes, just briefly, but that was enough- her words carried more weight to him than they ordinarily would. The man turned around slowly, hands clasped tightly behind him. "I've got to go. I have to go. I can't come back here. They'll find me, they'll know."

"Wait, please." Altia raised her hands in a calming gesture. "You're safe. Don't go outside just yet- we're not going to hurt you."

She could clearly see his fear, but he held her gaze. "You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. If you stay here, you'll be fine. Just don't leave." _Don't draw attention to this place._

The man nodded, clearly reluctant, but he trusted her anyway. Altia stepped forward with a small but reassuring smile, holding out one of her hands to pull him away from the door.

An explosion rang out from behind her. Altia shouted in alarm, hands clapping over her ears. When she opened her eyes again, the man was gone.

Well… not gone. He was on the ground, staring sightlessly at the ceiling, blood dripping from a ragged hole in his face.

Altia clapped her hands over her mouth, suppressing a scream. Her vision was starting to blur. She spun around, choking back a gasp, and came face-to-face with Leer. The boy was still aiming a gun at the spot where the man had been standing.

"Leer! How could you… how could you!" Altia shouted. She grasped at her face desperately. "I had him, he was fine! He _trusted_ me!" Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't bring herself to glance back at the man's body, lying in the room where she'd convinced him to stay.

The boy simply lowered the gun. "It was a fake trust. No one really trusts you, girl. And a fake trust isn't enough security for me."

"But he- you bought him out! He wouldn't have done anything!" Altia glanced around, staring pleadingly at the other boys as they filed in with dark expressions.

"You can never tell. Better safe than sorry." Leer shrugged. "Move the body, mutants."

Altia stayed where she was, frozen until Zack emerged from the group and tugged her hand. "Altia. Come help me."

She moved with him stiffly, grateful for the tears that blurred her vision and prevented her from seeing the man's body in detail. "Zack…"

"Hardly any cash," the boy whispered. He bent down and grabbed the dead man's arms. "Apparently banks don't store nearly as much physical stuff as Leer thought, or this one's completely broke. He's just in a bad mood."

"Just in a bad mood? He… he killed a man, Zack! He killed a man that wouldn't have even been here if I hadn't stopped him from leaving. A man that trusted me!" Altia cringed away from the body as Zack tugged it toward the bathroom. Behind her, the other boys were searching the room quickly, angrily tearing apart drawers and floorboards.

Zack shrugged. "Like Leer said, it was a forced trust. No one is stupid enough to actually trust you."

Altia gaped at him. He hadn't said that. He wouldn't. She must've misheard…

"Sorry, Altia." Zack hesitated, glancing outside, then dropped the body and shoved her roughly.

Her head cracked against the counter as she fell. Altia gasped as her vision went black, spots swimming in front of her eyes. She was dimly aware of the sounds of pounding feet, the wooden floor vibrating beneath her palms and cheek. Something slammed into her side- a foot. She cried out involuntarily as it crashed into her chest and already bruised cheek, shoving her back against the wall behind her.

"Sorry, girl. Can't have you around anymore. Not if you're gonna get all rebellious- start meeting our eyes and freak out over every mission." Altia couldn't see the face through her blurred vision, but she recognized Leer's breath.

"What… why…" Altia blinked rapidly. "Leer…"

"Someone's gotta take our blame. I hear the cops love mutants." Leer kicked her in the head again, sending her reeling back. "Have fun."

She heard him leave, slamming the door behind him and locking it with the key ring. Altia lay on the floor, gasping, barely able to move.

It was several minutes before she could force herself up, but her vision was still flashing- red, blue…

 _No. Not good. No, no, no, no…_ she spun around and turned to the bathroom- dead body. Not good. Her tears welled up again, and she turned quickly to the office. Nowhere to go from there. Nowhere to go…

The door crashed open, and several police officers filed in. They were shouting incoherently, possibly pointing weapons… Altia turned slowly, still dazed. She couldn't see their faces. Couldn't find their eyes…

There! A flash of skin. She stumbled forward, fixing her gaze on the officer, staring at him desperately.

He was looking over her head.

Altia turned, looking at each of the officers in turn. They were all looking at some point above her hair, or down to the side of her shoulders. As if they knew. They knew about her mutation.

A pair of hands grabbed her from behind. Altia couldn't even begin to fight them off- even if she knew how, she didn't have the strength. Her body was still trembling when they tightened a dark cloth around her eyes, cutting off her vision- and possibility of escape.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The room they were keeping her in was cold.

Altia crouched on a metal bench against the back wall, legs pulled into her chest. Her hoodie wasn't providing nearly enough warmth. The entire room gave off a feeling of coldness, and it wasn't just the temperature. Metal walls, austere hallways, uniformed men- oh, and the locks.

Leer had betrayed her. He'd left her- no, forced her to remain- and she was sure he'd found a way to tip the police off about her mutation, too.

 _It was only a matter of time. You knew he wouldn't want you around forever- you make everyone uncomfortable._

 _No one really trusts you._

Altia bit her lip, hard. The image of the dead man was still burned into her mind, staring up at her accusatorily. Forced trust. She might as well have pulled the trigger herself.

The sound of shifting metal drew her attention to the door. Altia glanced up as it swung open, revealing a flash of a hallway and a guard outside, before a dark-haired man in a gray suit entered. He looked at her, careful to avoid her eyes, then closed the door and crossed the room to sit on the bench beside her.

Altia looked directly at him, forcing him to keep his focus on the door in order to avoid meeting her eyes. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The man looked down, opening a folder and pulling out a sheet of paper and a pencil. "I want to ask you some questions. Figure out your situation, see how I can help you."

"So, you're my lawyer?" Altia frowned.

He smiled. "Something like that, although we have to work things a bit differently for dangerous mutants. You can call me Pohl."

"That your last name or your first?"

"Last." Pohl looked at her, keeping his gaze slightly to the side. "So, what is your name?"

Altia folded her arms, leaning back into the corner. "Altia."

Pohl sighed, then shook his head. "We know that's what you call yourself. However, we've run a city-wide search for that name and come across very few results. Not exactly a common name, is it? The few people we found couldn't possibly be a young lady such as yourself. What is your real name?"

"It's Altia. That's the only name I need."

He scribbled something on his paper, then nodded slowly. "We can use that for now. What about your family? Where are they?"

Altia frowned instinctively. "Don't know. Don't care."

Her sort-of-lawyer paused, looking up at her. "What are your parent's names?"

"My brother's called Nathaniel."

"Your parents?"

She shook her head. "Not giving you that. If you want to know who I am that badly, scour the city for every single Nathaniel and ask if they have a little sister who ran away." That is, if he'd even admit to that.

"You really aren't going to give me anything?" When Altia shook her head, Pohl exhaled slowly, rubbing his nose. "I would advise you to cooperate with me. Your situation doesn't look particularly hopeful."

"I didn't kill that man!" Even as she spoke the words, Altia knew she didn't entirely believe them.

Pohl seemed to share that thought. "Maybe not. But you aren't innocent, either. You were involved with the murder, and definitely with the break-in. Probably several other break-ins, too, if my sources are correct."

"And what are your sources?" Altia spat.

"Anonymous tip, and a great deal of background research."

 _Anonymous tip._ That would be Leer. Altia stared at Pohl for a moment, then looked away, clenching her hands together. "I can't help you."

He sighed, setting down his pencil and turning to face his body toward her. "And why is that?"

"Because… the people who turned me in- if I betray them, they could… do something. They could find my family." Altia stared at the floor, twisting her fingers nervously.

"I thought you didn't care about them?"

Altia shook her head slowly. "We haven't been close for a while. I haven't seen them in months. But, my mom is still my mom, and Nathaniel is still my brother. It's not their fault I didn't turn out… normal."

"Fair enough." Pohl slid his paper back into his file and stood, holding out a hand for Altia to shake. "Good to meet you. I'll be seeing you again in a few days."

She paused before taking his hand, shaking it quickly before pulling away. "All right. Can you ask them to turn the lights off? It's the middle of the night and I'm exhausted."

"All right." Pohl smiled. It would have been friendly, kind even, if he hadn't been avoiding her eyes. He strode out of the room, tucking his pencil into his suit pocket. The lights flicked out a moment later.

Altia lay back on the bench, folding her hands on top of her stomach and closing her eyes. The room really wasn't any colder than the old construction site- she shouldn't be going soft. At least she could rest without being interrupted by snoring. It would almost be more comfortable… if she knew what would happen to her when she woke up.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

She didn't have to wait long. It was only a few hours before her eyes snapped open again, staring up at the ceiling through the darkness. Something had woken her. She didn't know what, but there was something there. Something that felt a little… wrong.

Altia frowned, pushing herself into a sitting position. She winced immediately- that might not have been a smart idea. Her entire body was aching, and she could feel sizable bruises on her stomach and face.

The back of her neck prickled suddenly. There was a sound, like a whisper of a footstep, then the lights blinked on and the door ripped open with a screech.

Altia jumped, yelping in surprise. The metal was bent inward, not quite off its hinges, but clearly broken. And there was a man standing behind the door.

He was tall, with a rather stern jaw, straightened black hair, and matching eyes. His suit was black too, and he had a white shirt underneath, but no tie. Then he stepped into the room, and Altia realized something that she hadn't expected.

He was meeting her eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked, scooting back instinctively on the bench as the man moved to the middle of the room.

He took his time answering, staring instead at the room. His mouth curved downward in an expression of disapproval. Eventually he met her eyes again. "My name is Lane. I am a mutant- like you- and I have come to set you free." When he finished speaking he smiled.

If he hadn't smiled, Altia probably would've walked out with him immediately, but something in that expression made her pause. It didn't feel natural. And, now that she was thinking about it… _I have come to set you free._ What did that even mean? Free from this cell? Free from oppression? From humans? From expectations?

 _Quick, stall._ Her mind fumbled for a moment. "What… is your mutation?"

"I create… shockwaves. Blasts of energy. Good for ripping doors open." Lane's smile turned slightly patronizing. "We should go. Human reinforcements are on their way."

Altia stared into his eyes. Sure, he was a mutant, and sure, he'd blasted her cell open to get her out. But she still couldn't shake the feeling that something was… off. Something didn't feel right.

"You don't want me to come with you," she said. "Trust me."

Lane didn't even blink. "I do want you to come with me."

Altia paused. Maybe he was naturally such an untrusting person that he'd be difficult to work with…? She could try something more believable. "I'll be right behind you," she pressed. "Give me a second."

"Your power won't work on me." Lane shook his head. "Trust me. Nice try, though."

Altia gaped. People could hide from her ability by avoiding eye contact, but she was staring _right at him._

Lane raised an impatient eyebrow, and Altia came to a decision. She didn't want to go with this man. It might be her only chance to get out, true, but she'd rather take her chances with a human justice system than with this strange mutant who gave her an uneasy feeling and could somehow block her power.

"I'm not coming," she said. "And you can definitely trust me on that."

The other mutant frowned. This clearly wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting. "Altia," he started, "you don't even know who I am. What I want. What I'm trying to do for you."

Altia folded her arms. "I know that you know my name and I didn't tell it to you. I know that my abilities apparently won't work on you, which is unnatural. And I know that I don't feel comfortable agreeing to blindly follow a stranger who claims protection, but probably just wants to use me for my mutation. Last time I did that I ended up here." She stared at him defiantly, back still pressed against the wall.

Lane appeared… slightly displeased. "I can't stay," he said. "There will be other humans here soon. I'll give you one day. Think about it, and try to change your mind."

That seemed… reasonable. "I'll think about it," Altia promised. She didn't remove her gaze from Lane until he turned around and swept out of the room, leaving her alone in a cold cell with a broken door.

He'd been right- officers from another station arrived within minutes. Several of them burst into her cell, clearly surprised to see her still sitting with her legs curled up to her chest. Altia merely shrugged and requested a blanket, which was brought to her a few minutes later. She wrapped it around herself and lay back. There were still a few more hours until daylight- perhaps it was still possible to get some sleeping in.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

The next day proved to be awful. Altia spent most of her time alone, pretending there were shadows that could creep across her cell and provide some change to the lighting. An officer brought her breakfast, and Pohl came back for lunch. He'd brought fast food.

Unfortunately, he also wanted to talk some more, and Altia wasn't willing to do that. After receiving no information about her family, he finally changed the subject.

"So, Altia. What happened last night?"

Altia sighed, rubbing her eyes with a couple fingers. "Don't you guys have security cameras?"

"Yes, but that man did something to them. We saw a ripple in the air, our men were thrown backward- the furniture too- and the cameras fizzled out." Pohl sighed, clearly reluctant to go on. "If there's anything you could tell us, it would be… appreciated."

Well… no harm in that. And it could end up benefiting her. "His name is Lane. He's a mutant. Tried to get me to leave with him."

"Why didn't you?"

Altia shrugged. "It felt creepy."

"Fair enough." Pohl chuckled, getting to his feet. "I'm afraid I have somewhere else to be. I'll be seeing you later, though. Good luck."

"Yeah. Sure." Altia watched him leave, feeling a little melancholy at the prospect of being by herself with nothing to do for the remainder of the day.

It wasn't until Pohl was long gone that she realized she'd forgotten about what Lane had told her. _I'll give you one day._ That meant he would come back. He would come back very soon.

Altia spent the afternoon on her back, trying to make up some of the sleep she'd lost the previous night. She was incredibly stiff, and the hard metal bed certainly wasn't helping. Her jaw was probably bruised pretty nicely. None of the officers had commented on it, though. She wasn't sure how to take that.

She was finishing up her third meal of the day when the door opened and Pohl entered. He was wearing an unreadable expression.

Altia blinked up at him. "I thought you had somewhere to be?"

"I did, but circumstances called me back. There's been… a development." He pursed his lips.

"A development?" Altia asked. She put her tray aside.

Pohl nodded. "You've been released. It's all worked out. I don't have the details, so you shouldn't ask me for them, but I'm to escort you to the front."

 _Released. It's all worked out._ Altia's eyes widened. _Lane._

"Everything all right?" Pohl frowned.

Altia hesitated. He'd been annoying with his questions, yes, but decent enough. There was no need to get him mixed up with someone who appeared to be a truly dangerous mutant. "Everything's fine," she lied.

Pohl nodded, holding out an arm to direct her as she stood. "This way, then. I'm afraid we don't have access to any of your things, wherever they might be… if they were even legally acquired…"

"Don't care." Altia shrugged, clasping her hands behind her back to hide her nervousness. She followed Pohl out of her cell and into a short hallway that ended in a thick door. Beyond that was a nicer hallway- still fairly bland, but this one had a carpeted floor and pictures on the walls.

Altia suppressed a rising panic as they moved forward. She still didn't know what to say to Lane. What if he just took her? What did he even want? _It might not actually be bad,_ she told herself. _You probably just got weird vibes because he broke into your room in the middle of the night and told you to run away with him._

That somewhat amusing explanation provided a little bit of comfort, but she still held her breath nervously as they rounded a corner and came into the front reception room.

There was a young man speaking with one of the officers, but it wasn't Lane. This man had brown hair, glasses, and didn't carry himself with nearly the same authority and confidence. Altia breathed a sigh of relief.

Pohl cleared his throat softly, and the two of them broke their conversation. The officer was looking at Altia- well, at her shoulders- with an expression of displeasure, but the other man gave a brief smile.

He nodded quickly at the officer, then took a few steps toward Altia. "Thanks, Travis."

It took Altia a few moments to realize he was talking to Pohl. Her sort-of-lawyer nodded and stepped back, leaving her facing the stranger alone.

"You must be Altia." He stuck out a hand. "Hank McCoy."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"So. What's going on? Who are you?" Altia folded her arms and placed them on top of the small car in front of her. She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Hank had already opened his door, but he stopped in surprise upon seeing her expression. "I'm here on behalf of someone else. Someone who wants to help you." He turned around, glancing back at the brightly lit police station. "It's… hard to explain."

"Try." Altia leaned down, placing her chin on her folded arms. She stared up at Hank and pointedly met his eyes with her own.

He rubbed his forehead briefly. "I… it's easier to let Charles talk about everything. I can fill you in a bit in the car, but there are some things I can't explain very well."

Altia watched him skeptically. "Honestly, I'm just trying to make sure you're not abducting me."

"No, no. Of course not." Hank actually looked somewhat taken aback- the thought clearly hadn't even crossed his mind. Which meant, in all likelihood, that this was a fairly safe situation. Certainly safer than Lane, since her power actually seemed to work on Hank.

Altia shrugged, reaching down and pulling open the passenger door. She swung into the seat and shut the door behind her. Hank followed a moment later, glancing at her quickly before starting up the car.

Hank remained silent as he pulled out of the parking lot. Even though there were a bunch of questions that Altia wanted to ask, she didn't want to be the one to break the silence, so she contented herself with watching the streetlights flash by outside. Before long they were crossing a bridge that would take them out of the city. Buildings and cars were replaced by a view of open water, with the lights from the skyscrapers reflected in fragments on the choppy waves.

Eventually Hank cleared his throat, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "So. What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Altia replied. She kept her gaze out the window. "How do you know me? How did you know where I was? Why did you come get me out of there? How did you even manage that? Where are we going? Who are you anyway, and who's Charles? Are you a mutant?"

Hank chuckled nervously at her last question. "Yes, I'm a mutant. Don't ask me what I can do, though. You'll probably find out eventually. What's your mutation?"

Altia shook her head. "You know who and where I was but not what my power is? That's an awfully important gap. And I still had more questions- you only answered one."

"Because I should let Charles talk to you." Hank glanced at her again. "Sorry- Charles Xavier. He's the one who found you, told me where to go."

 _Charles Xavier._ The name sounded familiar. Altia frowned, then brushed it off. "Great. Where are you taking me?"

"To the school. It's safe there."

Altia nodded slowly, watching Hank for a moment before turning to look back out the window. The buildings outside were smaller now, grungy looking apartments instead of massive skyscrapers. "We're leaving the city?" she asked in surprise.

Hank nodded. "The school's up north a little bit. It's okay if you leave, right? I can always take you back tomorrow."

"No. No, it's fine… it's fine." Altia pursed her lips briefly, twisting her hands nervously in her lap. "I haven't left the city before is all."

"Never?" Hank shot her a surprised glance.

She shook her head. "Never had enough money for trips when I was younger, and never had anywhere to go after that. We didn't own a car, either. Didn't need it with all the public transportation." _Shut up. Shut up, Altia. He doesn't need to know all that._ She clenched her leg with a hand, forcing herself to stop talking by biting down on her lip.

Luckily, Hank said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead. Altia suspected he'd try to make conversation again, though, so she turned her attention away from him. Perhaps if she pretended to be asleep he'd leave her alone…

No, that wouldn't be a good idea. She'd already gotten him to make eye contact a few times, both in the station and on the drive, so she should use the opportunity to find out as much as she could. This could end up being a worse situation than Lane could've led her into.

"So." Altia racked her brain for a question he'd be likely to answer. "We're going to a school, then? A school run by mutants, since I'm assuming this Charles Xavier is one as well?"

Hank nodded without taking his eyes off the road. "Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."

"Oh- the place on the card!" Altia's eyes widened slightly. That was why the name Charles Xavier sounded familiar. The woman in the store- had it really been yesterday? She'd dropped the business card, mentioned that her son was a mutant.

"You've heard of it, then?" Hank asked.

Altia hesitated, then shrugged. "Briefly, I guess. I don't know anything about it. I've only heard the name. Want to fill me in?"

"Well…" Hank shrugged. "Charles finds mutants, takes them in. He helps them learn to control and live with their powers while providing them with an education at the same time." He paused. "He could help you too, if you wanted."

Altia had to admit it- there was something about Hank that made her glad she'd gone with him instead of waiting around for Lane. He was, to put it simply, genuine. There was a sincerity about him that she hadn't sensed coming from Lane. Even though it probably meant he was naïve, misinformed, or overly trusting, his sincerity was proving to be very… something. It was difficult to doubt him.

"This Charles," Altia said. "He sounds like a good man." She turned to Hank, watching him carefully.

He nodded without hesitation. "He is."

And there it was. The catch. No one was actually that altruistic, so either Hank was lying- which she doubted- or Charles Xavier had him fooled too. Altia felt herself deflate a little, though she knew she shouldn't feel so disappointed.

"My mutation," she said. "You asked about it earlier."

Hank nodded, glancing at her curiously. Their eyes met for a brief second before he turned back to the road.

Altia looked down at her hands. "When I meet someone's eyes, they trust me. They like me, even if they shouldn't. If I came up with a reasonable argument to convince you that Charles Xavier is secretly a mass murderer who experiments on children, you'd probably believe me, at least partially."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the aghast look that briefly crossed Hank's face. "That's horrible."

Altia blinked, swallowing past the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. _It's a reasonable reaction,_ she told herself. Zack had always accepted her more than Leer or any of the others, because they were both mutants. Why had she expected the same- or better- from Hank? He hadn't even told her his power. Maybe he was only pretending to be a mutant in order to create a connection and make her like him more.

"Sorry you think so," she muttered, turning away to lean her head against the window.

"Altia, that's not what I…" Hank trailed off slowly. Altia didn't look at him, closing her eyes instead.

They drove in uncomfortable silence for a while. Altia didn't know how long it had been before she felt the car pulling to a stop, engine shutting off after a brief moment.

"We're here." She heard Hank open his door, climbing out onto what sounded like gravel.

Altia opened her eyes curiously, peering out her window. Her jaw dropped instantly.

Standing in front of her was what appeared to be a house, but it was larger than any house she'd ever thought could exist. They were parked in front of either a mansion or a castle- perhaps both. It stretched as high as some of the tiny apartments, and she had no way of telling how far back it went. A few lights still shone in some of the windows, casting an inviting glow into the shadows.

Altia opened her door and climbed out, still staring. She couldn't see much in the dark, but it looked like the grounds extended for a while in every direction- there were no other lights to indicate other houses. They must've left the city far behind a long time ago.

The moment her gaze tilted upward, she froze. The sky was dotted with lights, tiny pinpricks against the blanket of darkness that surrounded them. Stars- real stars. She smiled slowly. There was something about them that made her feel safer at night alone in the middle of nowhere than she ever had during a night surrounded by familiar buildings and hordes of people. Maybe, just maybe, this hadn't been a huge mistake.


	6. Chapter 6

Hank allowed Altia a long moment to stare at the mansion before locking the car and motioning with one hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."

"You live _here?_ " Altia finally managed to find her voice, and she tore her gaze back down to where Hank was watching, already several steps closer to the front door. "It's enormous. How can someone own something this large?"

"With a lot of money. As you can probably see, there's plenty of room for the students at the school." Hank smiled nervously. "There's room for you too… if you wanted to stay, of course."

That statement somehow brought Altia back to reality, and she wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to stave off the sudden cold. "I can't. I need to go back to the city, where I know where I am and what I'm doing. And that's not up for debate." She stopped Hank's next words with a shake of her head. "I won't stay here. It's nice, and I suppose I should thank you for getting me out of there, but this isn't where I belong."

Hank sighed, motioning again. "At least come inside and get something to eat."

Altia watched him carefully for a moment, then followed reluctantly as Hank led her toward the heavy front door. He unlocked it with a small key before holding it open for her, then paused awkwardly when she refused, smiling quickly before stepping inside himself. Altia followed, crossing the threshold with mixed emotions. Nervousness, definitely. But if Hank had been telling the truth—and he had no reason not to, since her power should've made him trust her enough not to lie—then she had nothing to be afraid of. And that was almost more alarming than the possibility that he had lied.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, what little light shone out from nearby rooms illuminated what appeared to be a completely normal house, albeit a very expensive one. Mostly wooden structure, with a few carpets on the floors and paintings on the walls, and a narrow table against a nearby wall. It didn't sound like anyone else was awake, but Altia assumed that they were, since there had been lights in several windows a few floors up.

"What time is it?" She whispered. It felt wrong to talk too loud in the ominous hall.

"Half past midnight." Hank glanced back, briefly meeting her eyes again. That was going to take some getting used to.

 _No. No getting used to it. You're not staying, Altia._

She just nodded, her crossed arms giving her some security instead of warmth now. Hank moved past her to close the door softly, walking down one of the halls. Altia followed close behind, more than a little worried about getting lost in the dark. She'd never been anywhere this quiet—except, perhaps, the library.

Hank pushed open another door, flicking on a light to reveal a surprisingly small kitchen. "Hungry? I don't know when you last ate…"

Now that he'd drawn attention to it, Altia could feel a hollowness in her stomach, but she merely shrugged and glanced around the room. "If this is a school, how do you feed everybody?"

"With a lot of effort. And we've got more food in storage. You can come make a sandwich or something… if you want…"

She took her time looking around the rest of the room before nodding and moving cautiously to the counter, opening several cupboards in a search for bread. "Where is everybody?"

"Sleeping, mostly." Hank sat down in a wooden chair, glancing out at the hall before turning his attention back to her. "They have classes in the morning."

"So it is a school. You weren't lying?"

"Why would I?" He frowned. "I have no reason to lie to you."

He was probably right, of course, simply because of her power. Her mutation. Altia pulled a bag of bread off a shelf, starting to pull open drawers. "And a knife would be…"

"On your left. There. No, one more." Hank pointed.

Altia nodded her thanks, picking up a butter knife and pulling the fridge open. She stared at the contents for a long time, then closed it again and replaced the knife, picking up her pieces of bread and closing the bag. "I'll be fine with this."

"Bread?" Hank raised his eyebrows.

She nodded, taking a seat several feet away from him and ripping off part of the crust absently. "Will you take me back to the city after I've eaten?"

"I…" Hank glanced out at the hallway again. Altia followed his gaze this time, but saw nothing but darkness. "I think you should stay here. It's safe, and we have a place for people like you."

"People like me? You know nothing about me, Hank."

He looked over. "Actually, you'd be surprised. Even if I don't, there's always the Professor."

"The Professor." Altia rolled her eyes, tearing off another piece of bread. "You live in a school and it's got one professor. I'd like to go back, please."

"I just meant Charles. We've got more than one teacher."

"Oh, wonderful. So this Charles Xavier created a school for mutants, to help them understand their 'gifts,' purely out of the goodness of his heart. And now he lives here and teaches because that's what, his calling? And he thinks he knows _anything_ about me? I'm not like these people! I'm not privileged. My life didn't suck, no." She bit off another piece of bread, chewing angrily. "But it wasn't upper-class. Someone who lives here couldn't even begin to know anything about someone like me."

Hank watched quietly while she finished her first piece of bread, then sighed. "Charles is a telepath. He understands everyone."

"And a telepath is what? A mind-reader?" When Hank shrugged, Altia set down her second piece of bread and stood up. "This just gets worse and worse. Take me back." She folded her arms. "Now."

Hank removed his glasses, leaning forward and rubbing his eyes. "Can we go in the morning?"

Altia just felt her agitation increasing. "I'm not waiting around in a place where someone can go shuffling through my head whenever they want. I didn't ask you to bring me here—it was all your idea. But I'm asking you to take me back to the city. And I want to go now." Yes, she was asking through gritted teeth, but it was better than getting frustrated and leaving by herself. She didn't know where she was, so if Hank didn't agree, she was stuck.

She pressed her lips together, looking over at Hank until the intensity of her gaze caused him to meet her eyes. "Hank, I don't feel safe here. I think I need to go back to the city. Please."

He sighed, finally standing and replacing his glasses. "All right. We can…" Hank trailed off as his gaze became slightly more distant, then blinked and looked at her. "Actually, Charles would like to speak with you. If that's all right."

Altia felt a flash of panic. "No, it's not! Hank, trust me. I need to leave right now."

She could tell her power had worked because of the familiar mental tug between them as their eyes met, but for some reason Hank was still hesitating. "I believe you, Altia. I believe you think that. But… you don't. No one here will harm you in any way, least of all the Professor."

Was his trust in this Charles Xavier greater than his influenced trust in her? Altia felt herself wavering, just a little. People could only resist her abilities when they had strong beliefs or objections to what she asked. The guards at the bank couldn't even let someone they trusted implicitly into a secure vault. It would seem that while Hank trusted that she was afraid, he also trusted that she would be safe. Unfortunately, she didn't have that same trust.

"Please, Hank. Take me back. I… have something that I can't miss."

The indecision was clearly written on his face. Hank looked at her, then back into the mansion. "Just… just a few minutes. Just talk to him once, and then I can take you back."

Altia wanted to press him further, but she had a feeling that this was as far as she was going to get. "Five minutes. That's all."

"Great." Hank smiled, walking down a different hall and into a larger, open area with dimly illuminated stairs heading up in two directions and a brightly lit room on the opposite side. Altia could feel herself growing more nervous with every step, but Hank glanced back at her again with an oddly reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Charles is a good person, you'll see."

"I'll be the judge of that," Altia muttered, following Hank into the room.

Now that she was inside, she could see that it was a sort of study, or an office. Books were everywhere, and there was a desk near one wall, with comfortable chairs and a couch lying around the room. And behind the desk was a man.

He didn't look anything like she'd expected. She'd been anticipating someone older, with a stern face, but this man almost looked kind. His hair was still thick, his face wasn't lined, and his eyes were almost as blue as her own, though his were probably natural and not enhanced by his mutation like hers were. Altia found herself so caught off guard that she forgot her nervousness for a moment.

"Thank you, Hank." He spoke with an accent, yet another surprise. Altia blinked and forced herself to remember what he was—a mind reader. Dangerous. Although, he didn't look the part, and when he moved—

 _He's in a wheelchair? Paralyzed?_ Altia could feel her confusion growing. Nothing was going the way she expected, and that frightened her. At least with Leer she'd known what would happen.

"And you must be Alexa." Charles Xavier gave her a small smile that still managed to be warm, pausing in front of her to offer a hand.

Altia eyed it for a moment, but didn't unfold her arms. Shaking his hand might grant him access to… _Wait a minute. Alexa?_

When she didn't shake his hand Xavier turned it into a gesture, motioning toward the couch against one wall. "Please, sit down."

Altia shook her head. "I don't answer to that name. Not anymore."

Something about the way he looked at her—like he could stare into her soul—was disconcerting. "I think you could. It's like something you've forgotten."

"Get out of my head." She took a step back so she was level with Hank, who was watching her with confusion. "I told Hank I would speak with you for five minutes. That doesn't mean five minutes of you wandering around inside my thoughts and memories, got it?"

Xavier sighed, looking over at Hank with a small nod. "If I agree to avoid your thoughts, will you sit?"

"Fine." Altia crossed the room briskly, sitting on the low couch and keeping her arms crossed in front of her. Hank ducked out of the room quietly, closing the door behind him. Once she was seated the man—the Professor—wheeled over to her, placing himself on the other side of a narrow table. "Hank tells me you want to return to the city."

"Yes." It was then that Altia realized what had seemed off—he was meeting her eyes as well, but there was no tug, no connection between them that let her sense when she had someone under her influence. Just like Lane.

"I don't remember you having anything you'd like to go back for." He held up a hand, stopping her angry protest. "I'm not in your head—I was, before, using Cerebro. That's how I found you in the first place. But from what I recall, you have no desire to return to your family, and the people you were with… were not particularly kind." Altia noticed him looking at her cheekbone, where Leer had probably left several sizable bruises.

She decided to evade his curiosity with a question of her own. "What's Cerebro?"

Xavier smiled again. Not widely, but it was there, and it wasn't an expression Altia was accustomed to seeing. "Cerebro is a machine that enhances telepathic abilities. Not just mine—a few of my students have related mutations, but I keep it to myself until they're ready. Hank designed it."

"So… Hank's pretty clever, then." If she kept this up, maybe she could waste their entire five minutes.

"He is, yes." Xavier turned to go back to his desk, pouring a glass of what was hopefully water before returning. "If you'd like me to be more direct, I can be. Why do you want to leave if you have nothing to go back to?"

 _Darn._ Altia took the cup, staring at it for a few moments before taking a small sip. Water. "I told you, I'm not comfortable here. I don't want you in my head, and I don't want to be around other mutants."

"And if I agreed to stay out of your head, as you put it, would you agree to stay here for one night?"

Altia glanced back up at him, taking another sip of water to avoid responding immediately. He was searching her gaze with his own, not demanding an answer, just curious… and a bit of something else. Wariness? Concern? She couldn't tell, and she didn't like not knowing. "I don't want…"

"It's safe," Xavier said. "We can offer you a refuge here. I won't force you to stay any longer than you're comfortable with, but it would be better for you to rest now and return in the morning. I can have Hank take you back if you still want to leave."

He had a fair point. Altia looked back down, swirling the water in her glass absently. "If I did, you wouldn't use your abilities on me? Even when I'm asleep?"

Xavier chuckled. "I promise."

Altia wasn't in the habit of trusting people. Her abilities didn't work on him, and they hadn't worked on Lane… but something made her doubt that the two were connected. Whatever evil or corruption Charles Xavier carried, he hid it much farther down than Lane had. Her exhaustion was begging her to give in, to find a comfortable place to close her eyes, just for a moment.

"Fine," Altia said. She finished the water and set the glass on the table. "One night. I go back in the morning. And you don't go in my head."

As much as she wanted to doubt it, Xavier's smile really did seem genuine. "Fair enough. I'll ask Hank to show you to an empty room." He turned around to go back to his desk, making a note on a sheet of paper. The door to the study opened a moment later and Hank glanced inside, then motioned to Altia. She glanced between him and Xavier with a small frown, then stood and walked toward him stiffly.

Once she was outside and about to close the door behind her, she heard the Professor calling after her. "Good night, Alexa."

"Altia," she said, then closed the door with more gentleness than she was feeling.

In the dim light she could barely make out Hank's smile. "So he convinced you to stay?"

"For one night only," she retorted. "You're taking me back tomorrow."

Hank nodded and started walking upstairs, turning to the right and glancing back to make sure she was following. "We've got a lot of empty rooms. The school isn't very big right now, so… well, we've got the space. I'll just… here. This'll work." He spoke quietly as he walked down another hall, passing most of the doors before pushing open the one at the end.

Altia stepped inside after he did, taking in the dark room with a quick glance. It was smaller than the other rooms she'd seen, but had enough space to comfortably fit a bed, a nightstand, a couple chairs, and a chest of drawers against the far wall. The wall on her left had a small window, but it was currently covered by thick curtains. It was, by far, the nicest place she'd ever stayed, including the room she'd used to have in her parent's house.

She turned to Hank, not sure what she was supposed to do now. He just shrugged and gestured at the room. "I'll see you in the morning, then. Feel free to shower, or, you know, whatever you want. You have full reign of the house."

"Thanks," Altia murmured, barely aware of him stepping outside and closing the door with a quiet click. She walked over to the bed hesitantly, then kicked off her shoes and pulled the covers aside. The moment she tucked herself in she allowed herself a small smile, relishing the warmth and comfort of the room despite the awkward situation she'd found herself in. Once she woke up she could get everything sorted out… but hopefully that wouldn't be for a long time.


End file.
